


It's Not Easy Being Blue-Green

by MercuryWells



Series: Garycato One-Shots [6]
Category: Final Space (Cartoon)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, POV Avocato
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 11:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryWells/pseuds/MercuryWells
Summary: Little Cato and Gary won’t stop buying color-themed gifts for Avocato. Something is up, but what could it be?
Relationships: Avocato & Little Cato (Final Space), Avocato/Gary Goodspeed, Gary Goodspeed & Little Cato
Series: Garycato One-Shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959988
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	It's Not Easy Being Blue-Green

**Author's Note:**

> AKA lighthearted fandom disagreements, but told through the characters of Final Space.

Avocato was setting the table for dinner when he felt arms wrap around his chest from behind.

“New sweater?” Gary asked. He turned Avocato around and ran his hands over the dark blue knitted fabric. “It’s so soft.” He smirked. “Just like you.”

Avocato knew when Gary was trying to get a reaction from him. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop his tail from curling up happily. Gary grinned at him, leaning in for a kiss.

Little Cato walked past them with a hand raised over his eyes. “Hey dads.”

“Son, ”Avocato said automatically at the same time Gary said, “Spider Cat.”

Little Cato stopped. “Like the sweater dad?” he asked, a hint of mischief in his voice that had Avocato on red alert. “I think it suits you.”

“Yeeees,” Avocato said slowly. He replayed the events of receiving the gift in his mind. Was it a prank? He didn’t think it was a prank. “Thank you again.”

That’s when Avocato realized that his son was not looking at him, but at Gary.

“Don’t you think so too?” Little Cato prompted.

“Suuuure,” Gary said.

Avocato glanced between the two of them, unable to parse the cool looks they were shooting each other. Were his husband and his son having a fight? If so, why hadn’t Avocato picked up on it? To him, the two were outwardly expressive, wearing their hearts on their sleeves to a degree that he sometimes found endearing and sometimes tiring. It wasn’t like them to be able to hide something like a disagreement from him.

* * *

Avocato was on his way to his office, a mug of iced herbal tea in one hand, when he passed Little Cato in the hall. “How’s the homework going?”

Little Cato rolled his eyes. “Fine, dad.”

“Need any help? I know you were having trouble with your chemistry equations earlier.”

Little Cato looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in this conversation. “No. I’ve got it.” Then something in Avocato’s direction seemed to catch his eye.

“What is it?” Avocato asked, twisting in place to look behind himself. When turned back around he realized Little Cato was staring suspiciously at the ceramic mug he was holding.

“Where’d you get that?” Little Cato asked flatly.

“Gary got it for me.” Avocato tilted the mug as he examined it. There was a funny looking creature printed on the side next to big block letters that declared “It’s not easy being green.”

Little Cato hummed to himself with a frown, then walked past, muttering, “Wrong” under his breath and leaving an absolutely vexed Avocato in his wake.

Avocato glanced down at the mug, checking it for chips. Was there something wrong with it?

* * *

Avocato was devouring his breakfast of a bowl of oatmeal (he was the only one in the house who could stand the stuff, so all the more for him) when Gary walked into the dining room, listing to one side, his hair still mussed from sleep.

He walked around the table to get behind Avocato and planted a kiss at the top of his head. “Morn’ hun,” he said sleepily, resting his head on Avocato’s.

“Morning, babe.”

“You get up too early,” Gary complained. He rubbed a hand through Avocato’s cheek fur, eliciting a soft hum. “Bed is so cold without you.”

Avocato chuckled and leaned his head back to look up at his husband, giving him a shirt peck on the underside of his chin. “Then get an electric blanket, ya goof.”

“Why does my man have to be such a morning person? It’s not fair.”

Avocato shook his head, dislodging Gary, who whined in protest, but walked over to the coffee maker, his footfalls heavy and uneven.

Gary sighed with content. “At least you’re good enough to make me my morning liquid energy,” he said as he opened one of the cabinet drawers, searching for his favorite cup (over the past several years they had acquired a few.) After a few moments of rummaging he stopped short and said, “What the hey?”

Avocato snapped his head up to see what was the matter, his ears pricked forward in anticipation.

Gary held a ceramic mug in one hand. “When’d we get a _Blue’s Clues_ cup?” he said, as if it was very important Avocato explain this unwelcome guest.

“Little Cato got it for me.”

Gary frowned at the mug. “Did he now?”

Avocato was nonplussed. What was with his boys and mugs? “Yes. Not that I know what a Blue’s Clues is or why he gave me it.” He looked at Gary expectantly.

When it became clear that no explanation for Gary’s behavior was forthcoming Avocato sighed. “It’s just a mug, Gare. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Yeah. Just a mug,” Gary said absently, putting the mug back. And then left the room. Before he had had his morning coffee.

Avocato had to put his spoon down and stare at his husband’s retreating back. Had Gary been replaced by a pod person?

* * *

Avocato was working in his office. It was a place of quiet solitude, the only place in the house that was truly his. He looked down at the paperwork he was filling out and sighed. He could feel a headache coming on, and something in the back of his mind told him it wasn’t just the paperwork. He set down his reading glasses (the day he had come home with them for the first time Gary had immediately pulled him by the arm to the bedroom. Who knew glasses could be such a turn-on?)

Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. “Honey?” came Gary’s muffled voice.

“Come in,” Avocato said. He figured he could use a break. Gary walked in holding a potted plant of all things. Avocato raised an eyebrow at his husband. “What’s that?”

“Dypsis lutescens,” Gary responded matter-of-factly as he walked over to one corner of the room and set the plant on the floor.

Avocato eyed it warily. It was already three feet tall and he suspected it was only going to grow taller. “Dyps-a-what?”

“It’s a palm plant.”

“I can see that,” Avocato said, tilting his head at his husband’s antics. Something was up. “But what is it doing in my office?”

Gary shrugged, as if leaving impromptu plants was the most perfectly normal thing he had even done. “Figured this room could use a little life.”

Avocato twisted his mouth. “I’m alive.”

Gary rolled his eyes. “Not when you’re working. Then you’re more like a zombie.”

Avocato huffed. “I’m sorry my work is so boring for you. I really am. But–”

Before he could continue Gary was leaving the room. Avocato stared in shock at the doorway. He hardly had any time to contemplate why his husband was being so rude before Gary was back with two more potted plants, one in the crook of each elbow, and each a vibrant shade of green.

His eyes widened in disbelief. “There’s more.”

“There’s always more,” Gary said with a smile as he adjusted the plants, trying to find the best angle for them to soak in the sun that filtered through the window. “Let it not be said that I don’t provide for my man.”

Avocato stared Gary down, watching him fidget under the scrutiny. “As much as I’m grateful, please tell me that’s all.”

Gary deflated. “I mean–” Avocato pinched his forehead and sighed “–there were a couple succulents I thought there was space for on the desk?” He became more and more unsure as he approached the end of that sentence, finishing with a quick wringing of his hands.

Avocato stared at his desk, doing some quick mental mapping. He supposed there was enough space. If it truly was only a couple small succulents. He sighed. “Fine. Bring ‘em in.”

Gary beamed at him and turned around, where he bumped into Little Cato. “Oops! Didn’t see you there Spider Cat! Way to exercise those stealth skills!”

Little Cato grumbled. The nickname “Spider Cat” was a holdover from his younger childhood, and he was in that phase of his teenage years where he was desperate to be seen as an adult, casting away childish things. Too bad for him Gary was never going to let Little Cato forget that he’d always be his baby.

Then Little Cato looked past Gary into the office. “Woah. When didja get all the plants, dad?”

Avocato turned in his chair to regard the new decorations. He had to admit – loathe as he was to – that Gary was correct in saying that they added some much needed life to his work space. “Gary put them there,” he said, making it clear that his husband was foisting them upon him.

“I thought the room could use a little _green_ ,” Gary stated. Avocato tilted his head at the way that last word was said with significance.

Little Cato stuck out tongue as if he had tasted something sour. “Sure, pops. That’s why the plants are there,” he said before he left.

Avocato leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, staring Gary down. “What was that all about?”

“Oh. You know. Kids,” Gary supplied most unhelpfully.

Avocato knew he was being bullshitted, but he decided to let it go. “Can you get the rest of the plants, please? Today’s looking busy and this distraction is only slowing me down.”

“Sure thing, babe.”

* * *

The next day there was another knock at his office door. Avocato set his pen down with a clack. More interruptions?

“What is it?” he called out loud enough to be heard through the door.

“Wanted to give you something,” Little Cato called back.

Avocato looked forlornly down at his paperwork, realizing that he had just lost his flow. He sighed. “Can you make it quick?”

“Sure,” Little Cato said as he opened the door and walked in holding what appeared to be a framed painting in both hands.

“More decorating?” Avocato asked as he peered over his reading glasses with raised eyebrows. “Am I being judged? Is this you and your pop’s way of saying I’m boring?”

Little Cato started. “What? No.”

He was hiding something. Avocato was sure of it. The same thing that Gary had been hiding from him the day before.

Little Cato scurried to the wall behind Avocato’s chair, quickly setting the painting and retreating, closing the door behind him. Avocato swiveled the chair around. The painting was an abstract representation of a forest, watercolor paint splashing across the canvas in various shades of blue and black.

Avocato frowned to himself as he tried to link this addition to his office decor to Gary’s plants. He was unable to come to a satisfying conclusion. Besides, if he didn’t get back to work now he knew he’d be spending the rest of the day puzzling over his son and his husband’s odd behavior.

* * *

Avocato walked into the kitchen with the intention of grabbing a quick snack. Then it was back to work. At least it would have been, but he was distracted. Gary was humming and dancing as he wiped down the counter. Avocato’s eyes involuntarily tracked the sway of his hips.

Gary turned around and jumped. “Oh my crap you scared me!” It wasn’t embarrassment. Avocato knew that Gary had no shame when it came to dancing. Gary added, “Seriously! Do I need to put a bell on you?” and Avocato playfully flipped him the bird.

Gary’s initial shock turned to a smirk. “How long were you watching me, handsome?” He walked seductively up to Avocato and wrapped arms around his neck.

Avocato started. “You’re still wet.”

Gary giggled. “Sorry!” Then proceed to rub his hands all over Avocato’s head.

Avocato huffed a laugh as he shoved his husband’s hands off.

“Don’t mind me,” Little Cato muttered as he walked past them to the fridge. He opened the door and said, “What’s with the cookies?”

“Cookies?” Avocato asked. Was that what that lingering smell was? “You were baking, Gare?”

“Nothing special,” Gary said.

“You sure about that?” Little Cato asked judgmentally.

Avocato walked over to the fridge to get a look for himself. One of the shelves had been taken over by a tray of frosted cookies. “Green? Is this for that one human holiday? What do you call it? Sen. San–”

“Saint Patrick’s Day,” Gary corrected. “And, no. I just thought it would be fun to have some frosted cookies, and we had green food dye, so why not?”

Little Cato slammed the fridge door closed and stormed out of the kitchen without taking any food with him.

Avocato frowned. His son seemed to be doing that a lot around Gary lately. Was it time to stage an intervention?

* * *

Avocato awoke to music playing from his comm. He cursed as he rolled over under the covers, his hand blindly searching for the offending device.

_“And everything he sees is just blue / Like him inside and outside / Blue his house / With a blue little window / And a blue corvette / And everything is blue for him”_

With his comm in hand he checked to see what the hell it thought it was doing. The icon for his alarm flashed red and white.

“What the hell?” he said as he turned off the alarm.

On the other side of the bed, Gary grunted in displeasure. “When’d you change your alarm?” he asked irritably.

Avocato slumped. _Oh boy, he’s going to give me shit later for this._ “I didn’t,” he insisted. He had it set up so that his alarm was at a frequency that Gary couldn’t hear, allowing him to start the morning without disturbing his husband’s precious beauty sleep. He would never set his alarm to a song, especially one he’d never heard before.

Which begged the question: who did?

* * *

“What do you think if we painted the walls green?” Gary asked Avocato as he folded the laundry onto their bed.

Avocato closed the closet door with more force than he intended. It shut with a bang, causing Gary to startle. Avocato would be sorry if he knew Gary wasn’t trying to pull one over on him. “Alright. Out with it,” he said, doing his best to maintain a calm and level tone.

Gary looked at him quizzically. “Out with what Avo?”

“This whole obsession with green you’ve been having lately.” Avocato looked expectantly at Gary.

Gary folded a shirt, not looking Avocato in the eyes. “Why don’t you ask Little Cato?” A deflection.

Avocato pulled his husband into his arms, rubbing their cheeks together with a low growl. He could hear Gary’s soft gasp and feel Gary’s hands grip his shoulders. Good. It was a dirty move, but Avocato needed to get his husband pliant. He abruptly pulled away, ignoring Gary’s whine, and pulled him by the arm downstairs where he knew Little Cato was doing his homework at the dining table. Little Cato looked up sharply when he saw his dad stalking into the room with Gary in tow.

Avoacto steered Gary into a chair, remaining standing as he crossed his arms. “Okay, just what the hell is going on?” he demanded. “You’ve both been aggressively buying me gifts. And I can’t prove it, but I know one of you messed with my comm.”

His captive audience shared a look of the guilty who were caught in the act.

Avocato sighed wearily. “And here I was freaking out thinking that I forgot a birthday or an anniversary, but I triple checked. There’s nothing. So what gives? Am I being pranked?”

“Wrftnovrtcrofrfr,” Little Cato mumbled.

“What was that?” Avocato asked.

Little Cato spoke up, not quite looking his dad in the eyes. “We were fighting over what color your fur is.”

‘It’s green,” Gary blurted out, then winced. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

Little Cato slapped a hand on the table. “It’s blue!” he argued.

Avocato stood there with his mouth hanging open. This was what all the tension between them had been about? Gary and Little Cato glared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Avocato was in the room. Which, rude.

“Green.”

“Nuh-uh. Blue.”

“Green!”

“Blue!”

Avocato cleared his throat. When that failed to get his family’s attention he barked out, “That’s enough!” Gary and Little Cato snapped to attention with their backs perfectly straight. Avocato had to suppress a smile at the thought of how well he had trained them. “As much as I appreciate the gifts, no more.”

“Fine. But which is it?” Gary whined.

“Yeah dad,” Little Cato whined as well. “Which is it?”

Avocato had to consciously unclench his jaw. “Does it really matter?” he grouched. When he was met by twin looks of beseeching he sighed. “My mother always said–” and immediately clammed up.

Shit! He had forgotten how embarrassing it was that his mother had called him… _that_.

“Called you what, babe?” Gary prompted when Avocato showed no sign of continuing.

On the one hand, Avocato wanted this fight over. On the other, he knew there was no way Gary and Little Cato would let him live this down. Ever. Either way, Avocato was the loser in this situation.

He took a deep breath. “She would say that my fur was both. She called it bleen.”

His boys looked like they had just won the lottery.

_“Bleen?”_ Little Cato gasped.

“Oh sweet gravy that is just too cute,” Gary gushed. He jumped from his chair and rushed to Avocato’s side, petting his cheek. “Bleen.” Avocato grimaced.

Little Cato also walked up to him, a bit more calmly than Gary, and poked an arm. “Bleen,” he echoed in awe.

“Bleen,” Gary confirmed with a grin that spoke of trouble. “That is such a fun word to say! Bleen bleen bleen–”

Avocato stalked out of the dining room and away from the chorus of _bleens_ , feeling one of his eyebrows twitching involuntarily. At least with Gary and Little Cato having found common ground the fighting was over.


End file.
